


like it when we get closer (when it gets risky)

by softtofustew



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Angst, Day6 - Freeform, Fluff, Jaebri, Jaehyungparkian, M/M, cheating!au, cheating!brian, like a shit ton of angst, like side only, youngfeel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 10:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softtofustew/pseuds/softtofustew
Summary: “you think anyone will find out?” jae murmurs, breath soft and warm against the skin of brian’s collarbone. there comes no reply, just the small kiss at the top of jae’s forehead and the hand brushing the worries off of jae’s shoulders.alternatively, brian loves jae, perhaps loves him more than his actual boyfriend.





	like it when we get closer (when it gets risky)

**Author's Note:**

> title: baby don't like it by nct 127 // idk how i came up with this cheating!au tbh but i hope yall enjoy it lol

**(i) THE CLOUDS ARE RUSHING IN**

a bead of sweat rolls from brian’s scalp down his back despite the cool evening air. he traipses down the alley, the pebbles crunching under his shoes, the light from the streetlamps overhead casting long, eerie shadows across the expanse of the walkway before him.

as he walks down the alley, his mind revolves around only a half hour prior, when he dropped off his boyfriend back at his house, pecking a small kiss on his cheek, a smile plastered across his face. when wonpil flashed that boxy smile of his back, brian saw it: the flicker of doubt in wonpil’s eyes, the slight strain in his voice when he wishes him, “have a good sleep, bribri”, before shutting the front door.

the guilt is feasting on brian wholly and surely, so he tries to shake it off as he rounds a bend down to the familiar terrace house. with a few more steps, brian’s at the gate, his hands shoved into his slacks. he raises a hand to press against the doorbell. somewhere inside, a buzzer sounds, followed by the automatic click of the high-tech lock opening.

it’s 11:03 in the night when brian strides up to the front door, just as it swings open. light streams from the hallway, some of the rays blocked by the pajama-clad figure stood at the doorway, freshly-dyed black hair falling past his eyebrows as jae grins lazily at brian. “evening, sir. looking for someone?” he drawls, long and low, obviously a failed attempt to sound sexy, but still sends a chill down brian’s spine anyhow.

“perhaps,” brian whispers, his eyes still scanning the new colour on jae’s hair. he raises a hand to ruffle through it, a soft and gentle run through. “black looks nice on you,” he adds, even quieter, but jae catches it - a flush crawls onto his cheeks despite himself.

“i know, everything looks nice on me,” jae chuckles, before practically dragging brian into the house, a little bit warmer from the night air outside, traced with the mid-autumn draft. as soon as the door is shut close with a click of the lock, jae cages brian against the plaster wall, a mischievous smile across his face as he leans closer. “especially you. you had dinner already?”

 _hot damn._ “y-yeah,” brian stutters, hiccuping a little as jae’s hands begin grazing the boy’s full hips. for a moment, they stand there, eyes barrelling straight into the other’s fiercely with some sense of fondness, before brian leans in to kiss jae once, slow, torrid, dragged out - like the time they have together.

“my room?” jae manages to blurt in between kisses. brian sighs deeply; sinks deep into the moment carved in stone.

(“yeah, i guess.”)

 

**_______________**

 

how brian came to love wonpil is quite simple actually, your typical middle school math equation: a + b = c, a being wonpil, b being brian, and c being the tether of a relationship binding them both together. when brian had glanced up from his heavy workload, the first person he saw walk in timidly was him: kim wonpil, fresh-outta-uni business major, his hair combed meticulously well, suit pressed and snug on his frame.

when brian had stood to get a coffee, he’d stumbled into the boy once again, in the empty hallway leading to the cafeteria. papers had fluttered everywhere, and a flustered wonpil had blurted apologies right there and then, on his wit’s end as he hurried to retrieve the sheets from the tiled floor. amused, brian had leant down to pick up a few, before handing them to wonpil.

“t-thanks,” wonpil had responded - and _that_ was one melodious voice, brian had to admit. everything about wonpil, from then, was probably the closest brian had ever been to perfection. all the way, from his boxy smile to his hardworking self down to his cute watermelon socks he hid under his slacks and his bubbly nature trapped in a twenty-six-year-old body.

brian figures that’s the problem: wonpil’s too _perfect_.

it’s a lame excuse really - especially since brian was the one who’d asked the other out when they were on their way back from a seafood restaurant for dinner, a kiss burnt into their hearts under the drizzle of snow fluttering down around them two years ago. _two years._ two years of hearty rambling about their annoying boss and lame jokes and hugs and kisses and countless dates after work.

but the fire that had burnt for wonpil had decided to sizzle out about a year ago. around then, brian had been in and out of workload: the company had been bulldozing through financial crisis after crisis throughout three relentless months in the summer, and being one of the head managers meant sleepless nights and burning the midnight oil for too many evenings to count.

during that time frame, brian realised, that the boy who constantly kept feeding him with support and care and love was wonpil - and he felt guilty. guilty that wonpil was too perfect of a person to be stuck with such a flawed one like him. guilty that he had never felt so strong an urge to comfort wonpil during his own tough times.

then, it so happened that the start of spring half a year ago, the start of a gradual rise in sales, was the start of the brewing of a storm: wonpil took brian out for dinner at their favourite seafood restaurant - the one they went for their first kiss - and he’d just sat down opposite his boyfriend when a voice as clear as crystal resounded through his head.

“so, uh, welcome to ‘fresh outta the sea’, the freshest sea creatures you can get; would you like to order any drinks first?” brian glimpsed up for his eyes to land on a tall, lanky man, certainly older than twenty by the looks of it, but his face holding a sort of innocence to it. brian blinked at the combination of platinum blonde hair draped over his forehead, with his dark eyes and sloping shoulders.

unbeknownst to brian’s lack of words, wonpil grinned as he, too, looked up at the waiter. “water for me. you, brian?” _answer, dammit!_ brian snapped awake, swivelling his head to his forehead before glancing back at the waiter, cheeks flushed.

“uh… same for me?”

“okie-dokie, coming right up,” the waiter scribbled the order down on his notepad - who writes for an order of two regular waters? - before stalking off, worn-out converses squeaking against the marble floor. brian stared on as the boy, no, _man_ , poured two glasses with water from the clear jug rather clumsily, his fingers fumbling with the handle of the jar. within a few seconds, he’s walking back, and brian had to tear his gaze away and pretend to scan through the menu thoroughly.

“there y’all go,” the waiter chirped, placing the two glasses down precariously. as he did, brian had caught sight of the letters splayed in bold across the waiter’s name tag: jae. _jae_. the name, the single syllable, probably would sound perfect to roll off his tongue if he mentioned his name…

“yes?” bewildered, brian realised he’d said his name out loud. blushing brightly, brian shook his head in defiance, and thus kept his lips sealed for the rest of the evening, leaving wonpil to read out their orders to jae by himself. all throughout the evening, even after they’d finished their meal, even after they’d strolled down the walkway, even after wonpil left brian with an adorable good night’s kiss, brian’s mind couldn’t tear itself from jae, jae’s voice, jae’s clumsiness, jae’s smile.

the next day, he’d rushed back to the restaurant at night, breaths heaving as he asked for the man’s number. stunned jae was, but nevertheless, he’d typed in his number with a sheepish grin, ears a tomato red when he’d handed back the phone. brian left the restaurant that fateful night, light-headed, eyes dancing, heartbeat racing as he skipped all the way home, all the while forgetting his promise to fetch wonpil home that very same evening an hour prior.

 

**______________**

 

“what's up with you today?” the voice murmurs softly, a lullaby willing brian's throbbing head to sleep. sighing, brian shifts his body around so he's facing jae, head on the pillow, his eyes tired as they scan the other's facial features.

“nothing,” brian answers stiffly, before closing his eyes. “just… tired, that's all-”

“-cut the bullshit, babe,” jae counters, his mind still sharp as a tool, even in the wee hours after midnight. his eyes are dark, yet seemingly shot with a sort of brightness glimmering under those irises. brian opens his eyes to look at the pain written all over jae's face. “i know you're thinking about wonpil.”

something brian has learnt about jae in the course of the six months he’s known him: his clumsy demeanour is, in actuality, observant; he’s quick to note a slight change in things and easy to denote emotions even if you let your guard down for one second. as brian sighs, jae shuffles closer, his hand reaching up to brush brian’s cheek.

“you think anyone will find out?” jae murmurs, breath soft and warm against the skin of brian’s collarbone. there comes no reply, just the small kiss at the top of jae’s forehead and the hand brushing the worries off of jae’s shoulders.

“i just… i think he suspects.”

“huh,” jae whispers, tracing circles around brian’s cheek now, his eyes trained on the skin - as if avoiding brian’s gaze burning into him. the second tick by, with brian assessing the look on jae’s face: wiry glasses pushed up the bridge of the nose where it’s pressed against the pillow, eyes soft and warm, lips full and flushed pink. when jae finally meets brian’s eyes, he adds, “you could just tell him, y’know.”

the other man blinks. once. twice. “i don’t know, jae, i really don’t.” brian’s voice cracks, exhausted of the guilt wearing away his heart and body. sensing his discomfort with the matter at hand, jae simply leans closer to kiss him, lips soft for a split second before the hunger for either one intensifies, hands reaching out to skim the hairs at the napes of their necks, eyes shut and devoid of anything else present.

“what’s stopping you?” jae asks breathlessly when they part for a moment, before closing the space again. jae’s tongue slips along brian’s lower lip, and brian’s vision turns white. he lets jae’s fingers curl tightly around the hem of his wrinkled work shirt, before the same fingers begin playing with the buttons on the fabric.

“g-guilt,” brian manages out in a flurry of breaths, his hands shaking as he wraps his arms around jae’s neck, lips colliding again. _drown in jae’s hold. come up for air._ “t-the fact that he’s done so much for me, and i’ve done nothing for him-”

“-then shouldn’t you let him go? find someone else to do more for him?” jae cuts him off. the first button is popped off, followed by the next, and the next, and the next, all the way until half of the shirt hangs off of brian’s broad shoulder, smooth skin exposed to the heated air of the room. brian shakes his head before kissing jae again.

in one gradual movement, brian lifts himself up precariously, shifting gently so now he’s above jae, watches the expression on the boy’s face change from surprise to ease. when brian presses his forehead against jae’s, legs a tangled mess, hands interlaced on the mattress, he breathes a shaky sigh against jae’s lips. “maybe that’s the thing. maybe i don’t want to let go of someone so perfect.” he kisses jae long and languid. he’s so scared even as he whispers the next few syllables, “maybe i don’t want to choose. maybe i’m just… selfish.”

 

**_______________**

 

like brian said, jae’s not clueless. so when brian stumbled into the restaurant one evening about four months ago, jae knew something was up: how he’d looked meek, his fingers intertwined in a weak hold with the same boy from about two months back, all maroon-dyed hair and huge smile and crinkled eyes. jae had suspected from their first visit to the restaurant - maybe not their first time there, but the first time jae’d seen them together - but after that, there had been no sight of the other boy, just brian.

when they left, jae was left baffled, and somewhat hurt. how could brian have kept up with seeing jae for the past eight weeks, all the while in the arms of another man? as jae washed the dishes that night, he felt like banging his head against the tiled wall, because _of course._ of course, he’d believed brian’s foolish guard, believed the lies brian had fed him, believed the facade he had let himself to believe.

when jae was just about to lock up the restaurant, he wasn’t even surprised to see brian dashing down the pavement, eyes wild and haggardly as he stuttered to a halt in front of the restaurant entrance, his gaze on jae. “h-hey, jae-”

“-hey,” jae replied gruffly, before jangling the keys out to lock the door, all the while keeping his eyes on the lock. “nice to see you around. again. alone.”

“look, jae, it’s not what you think it is-”

“-it is!” jae hollered, turning to face brian. brian’s stunned silent, rooted to the ground. all jae had pented up throughout the evening burst then like a violent explosion shooting off in all directions. “do me a favour, and stop feeding me single-handedly with your lies anymore, because i don’t want to hear them, okay?” with that, he clicked the lock shut, stuffing the keys into his back pocket before turning on his heel and stalking off.

not even a full ten seconds later, jae’s turned around by the tug of his sleeve. “brian, i said that-”

brian cut him off with a soft kiss, arms enclosing around jae’s lanky body, too long and too skinny for anyone to fall in love with except kang younghyun himself. back then, jae was too frozen with shock to react, so brian deepened the kiss, lips pressed tightly against jae.

jae decided, then and there, that even if he were to ignore brian for the rest of his life, even if he were to walk away and turn to, perhaps, another significant other in the long run, he knew then and there that his mind would always trace back to brian, brian, brian. so he kissed him back, and the truth was there, sealed in their lips: of hope and promises. of more to come, no matter the ugly outcome.

 

**_______________**

 

later, when they were in jae’s living room, overlooking the tv blasting some late night show, jae leaned in closer to brian, his head laying on one shoulder. “so after you met me, you never took him out for dinner there anymore?”

“no,” brian pursed his lips that night, inquisitive, before glimpsing down at jae. “but he insisted today. said he was craving seafood. i didn’t back out, couldn’t.”

jae sighed, nuzzling closer. “will you ever tell him?”

“i don’t know.”

“bribri,” jae murmured under his breath. his fingers curled around brian’s chin as he sat up, before planting a small kiss on brian’s lips. when they pulled apart, jae searched for the glint of hope in the other’s dark eyes. when he did find it, he whispered so quietly, a secret to be shared between the two, “promise me you’ll tell him one day.”

 

**_______________**

 

**(ii) EVERYTHING FADING GREY**

“you promised,” jae points out in a soft rumble of voices to match the thunder rolling around outside in the cool night atmosphere. the 2am moonlight crawls its way under the sheets as the two sit, smothered by blankets. “you promised me you’ll tell him one day.”

“i did, didn’t i?” brian responded, face up at the ceiling, thumb tracing circles on the pale skin of jae’s thigh under the blankets. jae hums, closing his eyes shut as he lets brian’s touch lull him to sleep. “i did. i’ll keep my promise. just… i need time.”

“time for what?” jae asks, and brian winces from the sudden sharpness of the other’s tone as jae swiftly turns onto his side. “to gather your courage, man up? tell him? how tough is it, bribri? tell me.” the last two syllables are a plea, a cry for help, and brian doesn’t have to turn his head to know a lone tear has slid down jae’s cheek. “look, bribri, i said i’d wait for forever, but even forever is taking too long to get over with.”

“okay, i will, i will,” brian rushes, facing jae, watches the anguish scribble itself across jae’s furrowed eyebrows and secluded eyes and deep downturn of his lips. he tries to lean in, once, but jae shifts away, flopping over to the other side, leaving both in awkward silence.

really, though, what _does_ brian need time for?

  
**_______________**

 

the next morning is a blur of quick showers, half-eaten toast, work shirts as brian places a tense kiss on jae’s cheek, the awkwardness between them so evident and so thick it could’ve been sliced into half for all to see. before brian can make it out of the door, however, he feels the tug on his long sleeve. when he swivels around, he’s met by a warm embrace from the other, arms thrown around the man’s torso.

jae buries his head in the crook of brian’s neck. “look… i’m sorry about what i said last night. i don’t want you to feel like you’re at fault. i mean, you are, but…” jae sighs, breath hot against brian’s skin - they both shiver, “what i’m trying to say is, i know you’re finding it difficult to choose. i don’t want to push you.” he lifts his head, smiling a little. it lights up his entire face, and brian almost cries. “take all the time you need.”

thus, brian leaves jae with an admittedly over-cheesy but over-the-top kiss before striding out the door and down the walkway, his grin never leaving his face as he practically skips to the bus stop, his mind whirling. maybe he should set up a time tonight, take wonpil to the park, perhaps. tell him straight as it is. stop beating about the bush.

“someone’s in a good mood,” the man beside him comments, and brian almost shoots up by ten feet at the sound of wonpil’s voice right next to him - the boyfriend he wants to break up with. heat crashes over brian, embarrassed as he peers down at his work shoes.

“y-yeah, um, i had a good sleep,” brian mumbles almost incoherently. wonpil either doesn’t notice, or outright ignores the other man’s flustered expression as he slips a hand into brian’s coat pocket - no, sorry, jae’s coat pocket. (sure, blame brian: weather forecast said chilly weather today, and brian had no coat on him when he buzzed jae’s door yesterday evening.)

wonpil hums, before turning to flash his boxy smile at brian. his eyes are like two dancing irises, and maybe _that’s_ what drew brian to him in the first place - brian’s always loved arresting eyes, and wonpil was no exception. yet, now, the light reflecting off of wonpil’s eyes is darker, more torrential than serene. brian frowns.

“you okay?” brian questions, poking wonpil’s side playfully, hoping to garner some sort of giggle from the other man. no response. the lines along brian’s forehead crease a bit more. “hey. you okay?”

“yeah,” wonpil answers, his voice wavering a little before he turns his attention to the bus squeaking to a halt in front of the crowded stop, retrieving his hand from the coat pocket. as brian climbs aboard the bus, he doesn’t spot the piece of paper crushed tightly in wonpil’s fist on time, before it disappears in the man’s own coat pocket.

 

**_______________**

 

brian has always thought of wonpil as a sort of crown prince - regal, loyal, close to complete perfection, with a smile and heart and soul to match. deserving of someone who’s willing to give up his or her whole life to wonpil. brian knows, has always known, that he could never have been that particular the one in wonpil’s life, even if he changed his entire personality. the spark that had ignited the love for wonpil succumbed to brian’s doubtful self, so much so that brian soon felt nothing in their kisses, nothing in their love-making, nothing in their countless conversations.

then there’s jae: absolutely imperfect, balancing a guitar-teaching job in the day and waiting tables at the seafood restaurant in the night. despite some financial stitches here and there, he’d always been this composed, laidback boy, all easygoing smiles and lazy drawls and kisses to send you to the ends of heaven and back. his flaws stick out so bad: his messiness, his clumsiness, his whole ‘leaping-before-thinking’ personality, the list can go on.

but they match: imperfect with flawed. throughout his time with jae, brian’s realised that he could really offer his 100% then, with him. with wonpil, he doesn’t know how to explain it - it’s so _different_. like brian forcing too much of himself upon him, upon a man who is worth so much more and demands greater value displayed by someone else, not someone like brian.

yet, brian’s heart still drums away insistently as he strolls down the pavement, wonpil beside him, their hands fitting as they round a corner. in this silence, they eventually arrive at a deserted park, overlooking a river. the water streaming along is the only sound clear as crystal in the late afternoon as the sun just begins to dip below the horizon. wonpil, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, shoves his hands into his slack pockets as he offers a small smile at brian.

“brian.”

he clears his throat. “yeah, pirrie?” brian musters the courage to reply, to maintain his composure. he shifts his weight slightly as he waits for wonpil’s reply. he can only watch on as wonpil retrieves a tattered piece of paper from his coat pocket, thrusting it out for brian to take up and read.

as his eyes land on the paper, brian freezes. there, in swirly black handwriting, one that brian has become accustomed to, are the letters. _jae park._

it’s as if someone’s punched brian in the gut, or stolen all the oxygen in his lungs, or ripped his heart into a mere few seams, or- wonpil is stood there, stagnant, and for once, his expression is unreadable, only numb with the look as if to say, ‘ _well, go on. defend yourself; what do you have left to say?’_

“pirrie, this isn’t-”

brian cuts himself off. the words are familiar on his tongue; he doesn’t know why, but brian crushes the name tag in his tightening fist as he takes a step closer to wonpil, his eyes watery. his heart throbs. he _knows_ this is what he’s been waiting for, for almost a whole year now, knows that this is what he’s been dreaming of ever since he’d laid eyes on jae six months ago. _why all the sudden dam of emotions rushing through?_ “wonpil, look, i can explain-”

“-it’s him, right? the waiter from the restaurant.” wonpil’s usual soft, optimistic cheer is now lost to a tone of disgust, anguish… and hurt. tears trail rivers down the younger’s cheeks, and wonpil rubs at them furiously with the hem of his sleeve, and brian’s heart aches. aches so much that brian leans closer to hug him. so close that wonpil steps backwards, shaking his head in defiance. “stop it! i know it’s him. so stop denying it!”

“i’m not denying anything!” brian shoots back, his hands trembling in trepidation as he stays planted there. he bites his lip. he’s said it. he’s admitted it. what more to lose now? “i’m not denying it, okay? i’m sorry, but i-”

“-sorry? sorry that you’ve been cheating on me and my sorry arse for the past, what, six months? one year? frankly, i don’t know.” wonpil’s cheeks are flushed red with fury as he spits out all he’s hidden away for so, so long. “i don’t know. you’ve been so distant from me lately. every time i ask you out to eat dinner at night, you refuse, say you’ve got somewhere to go. i can’t believe i was so oblivious not to ask myself, ‘where? where can you possibly go?’ it hits me. of course,” he sniffs. “of course, because brian kang younghyun is a liar and a cheater and can’t just break up with me and move on with his life; instead he hides someone behind my back, waiting for me to figure things out myself.”

“wonpil, look-”

“-i’m looking, can’t _you_ see? i’m looking, and all i see is the person i’ve trusted whole-heartedly, loved whole-heartedly, and the absolute truth that i receive back is the person i thought i knew has been stabbing me behind my back for god-knows-how-long.” wonpil sniffs, his voice hoarse with the dam of emotions threatening to burst through him. “and i only felt the sting of the knife after so long. you think i wouldn’t know? you think i wouldn’t know that this isn’t your coat? yhat you smell of someone else’s heavy shampoo? that you have marks all along your neck from someone else? you’re a fool, brian.”

“i-”

“-but i’m the bigger fool, aren’t i?” the air strikes up a chilly breeze as wonpil stands his ground, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with sorrow. “i’m the bigger fool to have been cheated of for so long, for far too long.”

the moment is stretched out thin, like a voice straining too much to the very point where it almost shatters, splinters of its tendons and truth. wonpil is rubbing furiously at his tears, his eyes red and watery and splayed with colours brian has never before truly seen - his heart crumbles, disintegrates as wonpil laughs it off, emotionless. “who am i kidding? what’s the point in all this? what’s the point of breaking it off when you’ve done it all already?”

every word strikes every bone in brian’s living body as wonpil scoffs, glancing down at his work shoes before stuffing his curled fists back into his pockets, and turns on his heel. brian’s stuck, stuck with words, stuck with movements, and the only thing he can do is watch as wonpil’s walking body shuffles off, until he’s nothing but a dot shrinking smaller and smaller with every passing second, until brian’s nothing but a muddle of emotions.

as brian presses the piece of paper into his jeans pocket and stumbles off in the opposite direction, it never occurs to him why he didn’t think of chasing after wonpil. maybe he knows it’s futile. or maybe he knows it’s truly and most definitely the end of all things.

or maybe brian just doesn’t really care.

 

**_______________**

 

laying sprawled across his bed, brian thinks back to a moment about a couple months back: a wintry january morning, a drained brian slumped against his kitchen counter, having fallen asleep while tapping away at his laptop to try and finish up his work assignment due the very next evening. when he awoke, he’d landed his eyes on a wide awake wonpil, hair a tumble of a mess, accompanied with the sound of bacon sizzling away on the frying pan. “morning, sleepyhead,” wonpil chuckled, before switching the stove off. he laid the bacon alongside with some freshly scrambled eggs on a plate before plonking it on the counter. he smiled, wide and bright, brighter than the morning sun could ever have shone. “eat up, babe.”

“thanks, pirrie,” brian chuckled dryly, before rubbing the lethargy from his eyes. as his vision sharpened, his eyes were focused on the cheery boy before him, eyes crinkled as he pouted at brian.

“you needa stop working overtime, brian. the company’s gotten over the worst of it, already,” wonpil commented, tutting, and brian found it so adorable when wonpil stuck his lower lip out as he poured hot coffee into a mug. “it’s just the aftershocks of the earthquake; you need your sleep now.”

brian grinned back as he received the drink. the fluid ran, burning its trail down brian’s throat before he set the the cup down to stare at wonpil. “ _someone’s_ caring a lot,” he teased lightly, eyebrows waggling as wonpil blushed profusely in his light pink sweater, snug against his soft frame.

“of course i care about you. when have i not?” wonpil quizzed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. he leaned against the counter, facing directly opposite brian, before flicking the other’s nose. brian grumbled, causing wonpil to shriek with laughter and slap his hand against the thigh (god, wonpil and his stupid sense of humour).

yet, wonpil’s words then now ring violently in brian’s mind months later, the moment ingrained perfectly, carved intricately in brian’s memories as he lays, sniffling, on his bed, face up at the ceiling. thing is, when has wonpil ever _not_ cared? the clear answer: never. never failed to yank brian out of his wonder hole, never failed to make brian burst into giggles on a drowsy day, never failed to kiss brian’s worries to sleep, swathed by blanket upon blanket in the hearts of their bedrooms.

the phone blasts its obnoxious ringtone, and brian immediately fumbles for the device on his bedside table. before brian even flicks his gaze to the screen, he swipes clumsily across the phone before placing it to his ear. “hello-”

“-brian.” holy hydra dying in a pit of hell. brian’s heart hammers away at the single word, the word tainted with a harshness never heard before from jae. “brian. where are you?”

“my house?” brian replies, baffled. hesitance lies heavy in his house. “why? what happened?”

on the line, jae sniffs. “your boyfriend just punched me in the nose. or should i say ex?” brian winces, but before the guilt can sink in, jae adds, “my place. now.”

 

 **_______________**  

**(iii) THE CALM AFTER THE STORM**

“you're shoving the ice into my face, idiot,” jae mumbles incoherently as he shifts on the worn-out couch, with brian above him, ice bag in one hand against the slope of his nose. brian sighs, before moving the bag away. “now there's nothing, and my-”

“-what happened?” brian interrupts, antsy from being kept on edge. wonpil, the kindest, the purest, the calmest person brian's come to know, punching someone square in the face? who would've seen _that_ coming? “where… why did he hit you like this?”

“dunno,” jae chuckles dryly. he shifts brian's hand so it's angled above him, ice cold against his skin at the right pressure, before relaxing his muscles again. his nose isn't broken, that's for sure, but there's a nasty bruise splayed across the bridge of his nose, and it's bled twice in the past one hour. “i was wiping tables - it was close to the end of the day - and then he stormed in, punched me, got suppressed by the other staff. jimin didn't call the police on him, though. he apologized and walked off, though i must say he was pretty indifferent about it,” jae elaborates.

brian shuts his eyes screwed tight. it's his fault. for cheating on wonpil. for not telling wonpil. for letting wonpil figure it out himself, punch himself over it, and punch another over it. for landing jae in this huge mess. brian blinks the tears threatening to spill over the edges of his eyes, instead focusing on the bag of ice against jae's nose. droplets of precipitation deflect off the light from the lamps overhead, twinkling in the dimly lit living room.

jae notes this, the change of heart. “bribri, you know i see you, right?”

“maybe i should've just listened to you,” brian relents, gives in to the self-reproach swallowing him whole, gobbling him up like a whole feast. “i should've just told wonpil earlier to avoid this commotion. i feel so shit now, and i don't know what to do, what to feel.”

“hey now,” jae frowns, reaching a hand out. his fingers trace brian's eyelids, shut and devoid from their surroundings. “now's not the time to give in like that. it was your choice to make, and besides, it's not like he broke my nose or anything-”

“-i broke his heart,” brian cuts in, voice heavy with anguish. “i saw it coming, but i never thought it would feel this bad. this is worse. it feels like i'm in a pit of flames burning me and no one can extinguish it.”

sighing, jae fumbles to lift himself up on his elbows, his eyes scanning warily over brian's face, searching for assurance before leaning close to brush his lips against the other’s softly - so soft that brian almost dreams it, but he watches on as jae pulls back, a small smile framing his small face.

“it'll be over soon, alright? fires that burn that bright will eventually go out,” jae murmurs, tone hushed, voice calm.

his words race through brian's mind. _what if the fire that burns for you will go out, too?_ he thinks. says it aloud without thinking, he realises too late, for jae guffaws, lifting a hand to pinch brian's chubby cheek. “you silly boy. even if you don't love me no more, i'll be here for you. okay? okay,” he chuckles, his voice coursing through brian's veins.

overcome with emotions, brian trembles as he wraps both his arms around jae's torso, places his head to rest against the thump thump thump of jae's beating heart. “i don't know, jae. i don't know.”

a hand reaches out to wipe at the tear that had fallen on its own accord, streaked across brian’s cheek. “it's okay. this too shall pass,” jae mumbles, his fingers carding through brian's hair, and brian closes his eyes, lets the tear slide down at last, lets the moment carry on, lest he acknowledge it and back out of it, lets the tide of emotions rise and retreat as the clock ticks by.

 

**_______________**

 

the call comes unexpectedly about two months later, after wonpil accepted a job offer he'd received a year back, after wonpil packed up and left for busan, after the box of brian's books to wonpil appeared at brian's doorstep a week post-breakup.

brian feels his heart sink down to the ground as he slides across the screen. puts the phone near to his ear with shaking fingers. “hello?” his voice is nothing less of nervous, jumbled up with dread for what to come next.

“hey, brian.” wonpil's voice is devoid of emotion, colourless. nevertheless, a tingle flitters down to brian’s curling toes at the familiarity of the honey voice flowing from the other side, miles away from him. _some things never change,_ brian thinks, as he cups the phone closer to his ear. beside him at the kitchen counter, jae frowns before wrapping a warm hand over brian's on the sleek counter top. “how are you?”

“good, i guess,” brian replies hesitantly. where is this all going to?

a deep intake of breath is heard from the other side. “i didn't call to shout at you, don't worry. i just wanted to ask you something.”

“yeah?”

there's a long pause, before the voice starts up again. “why? why cheat when you could've just broken up with me? i just… it's been running through my mind for a while now. i just wanted to, well. know.”

brian feels his heart stammering over the words again, but out of the blue, his lips are forming words his brain can't even process: “i couldn't tell you straight up that i didn't love you anymore. yes, it's a shitty reason, yes, i'm a coward. but i felt you were too perfect for me. and i felt you were too perfect to let go of completely.” brian breathes in, out, in, out. from the corner of his eyes he watches jae smile eagerly. “i was selfish. and i'm sorry i never got to apologise in person. i'm sorry.”

there's a hum from the other line, and a shout from someone else. a man, brian realises with an arched eyebrow. “huh,” wonpil responds, quiet, thoughtful. “well… apology accepted, brian. i'm sorry i left without a word. i needed to clear my mind up. move away and move up. i'm sorry to jae too, by the way. i hope i didn't break his nose.”

“no worries,” brian laughs. the relief rushes throughout his whole being as the words settle down. he forgives me, thank god. “how’ve you been?”

“great, actually,” wonpil gushes, that melodious voice singing through the line. “i hope i don't mean to sound like a bounder, but i found someone else. maybe one day i'll drive back down so you can meet him. we could double date.”

“y-yeah,” brian chuckles, the surprise evident in his tone, but relieved nonetheless. beside him, jae's tugging at his sleeve, desperate for him to hang up already. “look, i gotta go, pirrie. chat another time?”

brian almost hears the smile on wonpil's face. almost. “sure. nice. see ya.”

“see you-”

there's a squeal of a laughter as jae jumps on to brian, landing on his lap as the swivel chair groans under their weight. jae spins them around a few times, all the while giggling uncontrollably, fingers twisted around brian's shirt as he pulls them together to seal their lips with a kiss. when they do pull apart, jae has to laugh. “i told you, dumbass.”

“whatever,” brian sighs, but his heart is full, his soul is replenished. his mind is soothed as he reaches up to let their lips meet again. “i think i'm finally clean, jaehyungie. i think i’m clean.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> yell your lungs out at me:  
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